Yllidan blacked out from pain. He had never hurt so much in his life.
He awoke as soon as he fell and looked at the door.
He attempted to crawl towards the door but found a figure blocking it.
He looked up pitifully and moaned.
Darkness overwhelmed him once more.
The Shadowed Legacy
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
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- Contact:
The half-elf was something else!
His fighting technique resembled the style of a dancer; as if he were dancing with his opponents. It was unlike Ambron had ever seen before.
After narrowly escaping from a swing of the big fighter’s sword, the half-elf was back on his feet.
He had his opponent bested in every way; if Ambron was right about this guy, the greatest danger seemed to lurk from within. Ambron had watched him closely; he noticed an absent look on the face of this skilled warrior. It was the reason of his mistake earlier.
This judgement had formed in Ambron’s mind in a few seconds. Then a new attack on the half-elf drew his attention.
This should be interesting…
The barbarian took a swing with his sword. In his rage, he hardly knew what to aim for. The half-elf easily evaded the strike by leaning back; he knew now that he could take this man on in a heartbeat.
Frustrated by his lost attack, the barbarian now handled his weapon with two hands. Holding it high above his head he went in for one ‘all or nothing’ attack. His blood red eyes focused purely on this irritating ‘little’ half-elf.
His blade came flashing down; but suddenly all energy and fears ness fell off of his attack.
The long thin blade of the katana pointed out of the man’s back, painted red with blood. His eyes were wide open, totally surprised and unsure about what had happened. As the big ox fell forward; the half-elf quickly pulled out his sword and stepped aside.
A loud crash was heard as the man fell on the ground, dead.
His fighting technique resembled the style of a dancer; as if he were dancing with his opponents. It was unlike Ambron had ever seen before.
After narrowly escaping from a swing of the big fighter’s sword, the half-elf was back on his feet.
He had his opponent bested in every way; if Ambron was right about this guy, the greatest danger seemed to lurk from within. Ambron had watched him closely; he noticed an absent look on the face of this skilled warrior. It was the reason of his mistake earlier.
This judgement had formed in Ambron’s mind in a few seconds. Then a new attack on the half-elf drew his attention.
This should be interesting…
The barbarian took a swing with his sword. In his rage, he hardly knew what to aim for. The half-elf easily evaded the strike by leaning back; he knew now that he could take this man on in a heartbeat.
Frustrated by his lost attack, the barbarian now handled his weapon with two hands. Holding it high above his head he went in for one ‘all or nothing’ attack. His blood red eyes focused purely on this irritating ‘little’ half-elf.
His blade came flashing down; but suddenly all energy and fears ness fell off of his attack.
The long thin blade of the katana pointed out of the man’s back, painted red with blood. His eyes were wide open, totally surprised and unsure about what had happened. As the big ox fell forward; the half-elf quickly pulled out his sword and stepped aside.
A loud crash was heard as the man fell on the ground, dead.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Just a few minutes ago, the room was filled with screaming and the iron against iron sound of swords hitting against each other.
Now, the silence was deafening.
In the middle of some broken furniture stood the strange fellow from before; he was covering his left arm in pain. With a look of amazement, he stared at the half-elf.
When he realised Ambron was looking at him, he stood up straight, looked him in the eyes and nodded.
A clay cub rolled of a broken table, with a loud noise it hit on the ground and broke the long lasting silence.
Bodies covered the floor of the Inn, but the wizard was still missing. Had he transported out of here; could he be so powerful?
“No, then he would have stronger friends. Besides, if he could teleport, then he could have done some real damage with high level spells… instead of magic missiles.
He must still be here, invisible.”
A man he had not seen before rose up from his chair in the back and looked upon the damage caused in the room. Against the chair stood a big shield and in his right hand, he held a morning star.
He looked tired but intrigued about recent events.
A halfling had passed out on the floor in front of Ambron and moaned in pain. As Ambron looked at him, he noticed the halfling wasn’t very big. “You need to work out some more.” He said to himself and smiled.
Suddenly, the wooden floor in front of him made a cracking noise. With the wizard still in the back of his mind, the sound immediately drew his attention.
Ambron leaped forward towards the origin of the noise.
Startled, the wizard started casting a spell. It was in vain, no spell could be casted before Ambron was there.
Ambron swung his staff across the floor and swooped the wizard’s feet from underneath him. While falling, he became visible again.
As he hit the floor, Ambron jumped upon the wizard and gauged him. “Ha ha! Try casting spells now fellow!”
He sat on top of the wizard while forcing his hands to the floor.
Ambron looked trough the room waiting for someone to throw him a rope.
“Someone’s gonna help me with this guy or not?”
Now, the silence was deafening.
In the middle of some broken furniture stood the strange fellow from before; he was covering his left arm in pain. With a look of amazement, he stared at the half-elf.
When he realised Ambron was looking at him, he stood up straight, looked him in the eyes and nodded.
A clay cub rolled of a broken table, with a loud noise it hit on the ground and broke the long lasting silence.
Bodies covered the floor of the Inn, but the wizard was still missing. Had he transported out of here; could he be so powerful?
“No, then he would have stronger friends. Besides, if he could teleport, then he could have done some real damage with high level spells… instead of magic missiles.
He must still be here, invisible.”
A man he had not seen before rose up from his chair in the back and looked upon the damage caused in the room. Against the chair stood a big shield and in his right hand, he held a morning star.
He looked tired but intrigued about recent events.
A halfling had passed out on the floor in front of Ambron and moaned in pain. As Ambron looked at him, he noticed the halfling wasn’t very big. “You need to work out some more.” He said to himself and smiled.
Suddenly, the wooden floor in front of him made a cracking noise. With the wizard still in the back of his mind, the sound immediately drew his attention.
Ambron leaped forward towards the origin of the noise.
Startled, the wizard started casting a spell. It was in vain, no spell could be casted before Ambron was there.
Ambron swung his staff across the floor and swooped the wizard’s feet from underneath him. While falling, he became visible again.
As he hit the floor, Ambron jumped upon the wizard and gauged him. “Ha ha! Try casting spells now fellow!”
He sat on top of the wizard while forcing his hands to the floor.
Ambron looked trough the room waiting for someone to throw him a rope.
“Someone’s gonna help me with this guy or not?”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
A faint glow emanated from the katana as the half-elf stood over his fallen foe. His expression betrayed no pride, no satisfaction, no remorse. Nothing. He slipped the katana into its sheathe and surveyed the room with a disinterested glance. It was over.
More wine, that’s what he needed. What had he done with his glass? He looked around again. A few feet away lied a man in two pieces, the ground smeared with blood and tiny fragments of glass. He frowned. Now how was he supposed to drink his wine? On a whim, out of habit perhaps, he reached down and went through the corpse’s pockets. A bag of gold. A few daggers, one of which shined a little brighter than the rest. Hmm, a scroll. A dark look crept across his formerly expressionless features. He quietly pocketed the bloodstained note, the dagger and the gold, and rose. It was time to leave.
As he was about to leave, something lying on the ground caught his eye. He walked over to the dead archer and kneeled down. The corpse was black and smoldering, but the short bow lying next to him was undamaged. A curious feeling ran through him as he picked it up. Like he had used one before. He fingered it, drawing it taut with the nimbleness of experience. He gave a mental shrug and stood, then walked to the door, bow in hand.
More wine, that’s what he needed. What had he done with his glass? He looked around again. A few feet away lied a man in two pieces, the ground smeared with blood and tiny fragments of glass. He frowned. Now how was he supposed to drink his wine? On a whim, out of habit perhaps, he reached down and went through the corpse’s pockets. A bag of gold. A few daggers, one of which shined a little brighter than the rest. Hmm, a scroll. A dark look crept across his formerly expressionless features. He quietly pocketed the bloodstained note, the dagger and the gold, and rose. It was time to leave.
As he was about to leave, something lying on the ground caught his eye. He walked over to the dead archer and kneeled down. The corpse was black and smoldering, but the short bow lying next to him was undamaged. A curious feeling ran through him as he picked it up. Like he had used one before. He fingered it, drawing it taut with the nimbleness of experience. He gave a mental shrug and stood, then walked to the door, bow in hand.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Ambron had found a rope long enough to tie someone up.
He put the wizzard on his back and tied his hands together.
Then he put the man on a chair and went through is pockets in search of weapons.
"Wait, who are you? He heard.
Ambron looked up and saw the half-elf leaving.
"Your not going anywhere friend! Not untill I get some answers."
He put the wizzard on his back and tied his hands together.
Then he put the man on a chair and went through is pockets in search of weapons.
"Wait, who are you? He heard.
Ambron looked up and saw the half-elf leaving.
"Your not going anywhere friend! Not untill I get some answers."
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
"Wait! Who are you?” someone called.
Something about the voice caught the half-elf’s attention. He stopped and turned around. A skinny youth kneeled a couple meters away, binding a black-robed man to a chair. One of the people who had attacked him, he faintly remembered. Who are you? echoed the voice in his head.
“Gilthanas,” he muttered. He stood there for a moment, an almost puzzled look clouding his eyes. Such a simple question, really…
"You’re not going anywhere friend! Not until I get some answers,” rose another voice, deep and surly. He turned his attention to the dwarf, who now stood blocking his path. He gazed levelly at the dwarf, his face expressionless, unreadable. “You heard me, half-elf. I want to know what’s going on here. Now.” The dwarf returned the stare steadily, not giving an inch.
“They were after my katana. Someone sent them. I intend to find why.” He started to push past Ambron, then stopped. He walked over to the bound wizard and reached out. Before the other two knew what had happened he'd removed the gag and drawn his sword, pressing the weapon firmly against the man’s throat.
“Who’s Reglan? Why does he want my weapon?” Gilthanas snapped, cold steel in his eyes. The wizard’s eyes widened in fear; he began to cough uncontrollably. The half-elf didn’t let up in the slightest. Blood began to dribble down the man’s throat.
“Tell me!” Gilthanas snarled.
Something about the voice caught the half-elf’s attention. He stopped and turned around. A skinny youth kneeled a couple meters away, binding a black-robed man to a chair. One of the people who had attacked him, he faintly remembered. Who are you? echoed the voice in his head.
“Gilthanas,” he muttered. He stood there for a moment, an almost puzzled look clouding his eyes. Such a simple question, really…
"You’re not going anywhere friend! Not until I get some answers,” rose another voice, deep and surly. He turned his attention to the dwarf, who now stood blocking his path. He gazed levelly at the dwarf, his face expressionless, unreadable. “You heard me, half-elf. I want to know what’s going on here. Now.” The dwarf returned the stare steadily, not giving an inch.
“They were after my katana. Someone sent them. I intend to find why.” He started to push past Ambron, then stopped. He walked over to the bound wizard and reached out. Before the other two knew what had happened he'd removed the gag and drawn his sword, pressing the weapon firmly against the man’s throat.
“Who’s Reglan? Why does he want my weapon?” Gilthanas snapped, cold steel in his eyes. The wizard’s eyes widened in fear; he began to cough uncontrollably. The half-elf didn’t let up in the slightest. Blood began to dribble down the man’s throat.
“Tell me!” Gilthanas snarled.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
"Stop!" Shouted Rojin, quite panicy, he regained his composure and said, "Yopu can't kill someone for information, even these people deserve a fair trial, or atleast something." Rojin walked over to the injured man, Layed his hands on his neck, healing it.
"I can do that again but I can't stop him hurting you."
"I can do that again but I can't stop him hurting you."
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
As Gilthanas was stopped interrogating for a second, Ambron suddenly recalled the Halfling who had passed out on the floor in front of the door.
He reached into his pocked a pulled out a small bottle. As he took of the cap, a strong sent rose up from it.
Ambron kneeled down next to the Halfling and swung the bottle under his nose. A reaction followed soon.
Discussed by the smell, the unknown Halfling opened his eyes. The expression on his face made Ambron smile. He snapped his fingers in front of him a couple of times to get his attention.
“Do you know where you are?”
He reached into his pocked a pulled out a small bottle. As he took of the cap, a strong sent rose up from it.
Ambron kneeled down next to the Halfling and swung the bottle under his nose. A reaction followed soon.
Discussed by the smell, the unknown Halfling opened his eyes. The expression on his face made Ambron smile. He snapped his fingers in front of him a couple of times to get his attention.
“Do you know where you are?”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
Arvyon raised his head from the ground groggily. Apparently he had been swept up in what appeared to be a brawl. He slowly rose to his feet, and after getting his bearings he noticed some figures that remained. Voices echoed through his head, though his mind was swimming and he could not make them out entirely.
As he began to recover fully, Arvyon went over to a dwarf kneeling by a halfling. He heard the question: "Do you know where you are?"
I would like to know that for myself, Arvyon thought wearily. He patted the dwarf on the shoulder and asked him kindly, "Is the little one injured?"
As he began to recover fully, Arvyon went over to a dwarf kneeling by a halfling. He heard the question: "Do you know where you are?"
I would like to know that for myself, Arvyon thought wearily. He patted the dwarf on the shoulder and asked him kindly, "Is the little one injured?"
"Have no hard feelings toward anyone who has not shown you enmity, do not fight with anyone who does not oppose you." - Zhuge Liang, Chinese strategist
-The world is yours-
"I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." - Voltaire
-The world is yours-
"I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it." - Voltaire
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
While the Halfling woke up, someone tapped Ambron on his shoulder.
"Is the little one injured?" As Ambron turned his head, he saw friendly face looked at him.
A relatively big guy leaned over curiously.
“Yes, nothing too serious though. I think he’s coming around.”
Ambron hoisted him up and place him in a chair. “He should be fine.”
Then he turned around and faced the big guy; trying his best to get a general impression of this fellow. His bright blue eyes focused on the man’s eyes, the window to the soul.
“You are a good man; now leave before things get messy. Take the small guy with you.”
Thinking this was taken care of, Ambron focused on Gilthanas again.
“This is not the way we take care of business around here! I believe you were provoked by them; don’t prove me otherwise or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
Ambron kept his fear of Gilthanas hidden, adrenaline rushed through his body. It made him feel alive again; still, he kept his cool as he always did.
The room was silent for a second and Ambron was unsure what would happen. Gilthanas had not answered yet; he kept his focus on the bound wizard.
Ambron took a deep breath. “I am Ambron, and I’m willing to let you interrogate this guy. But don’t go too far.”
"Is the little one injured?" As Ambron turned his head, he saw friendly face looked at him.
A relatively big guy leaned over curiously.
“Yes, nothing too serious though. I think he’s coming around.”
Ambron hoisted him up and place him in a chair. “He should be fine.”
Then he turned around and faced the big guy; trying his best to get a general impression of this fellow. His bright blue eyes focused on the man’s eyes, the window to the soul.
“You are a good man; now leave before things get messy. Take the small guy with you.”
Thinking this was taken care of, Ambron focused on Gilthanas again.
“This is not the way we take care of business around here! I believe you were provoked by them; don’t prove me otherwise or you’ll suffer the consequences.”
Ambron kept his fear of Gilthanas hidden, adrenaline rushed through his body. It made him feel alive again; still, he kept his cool as he always did.
The room was silent for a second and Ambron was unsure what would happen. Gilthanas had not answered yet; he kept his focus on the bound wizard.
Ambron took a deep breath. “I am Ambron, and I’m willing to let you interrogate this guy. But don’t go too far.”
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
Do you know where you are?
Do you know where you are?
Do you....
Yllidan blinked, sat up and looked around. The bar was still there, the wizard he had tried to fire was on his bottom, a halfelf and another figure standing over him.
"Damn." he said grogilly.
"He's awake!"
Yllidan looked about and saw he was surrounded by figures. He gingerly touched his shoulder and winced.
"I can help with that." said one of the men, a cleric, it seemed.
He laid his hands upon Yllidan's shoulder and his mouthed moved softly.
"Better?"
Yllidan nodded.
"Thanks." he added.
His attention turned to the wizard, bound and gagged, on a chair.
Do you know where you are?
Do you....
Yllidan blinked, sat up and looked around. The bar was still there, the wizard he had tried to fire was on his bottom, a halfelf and another figure standing over him.
"Damn." he said grogilly.
"He's awake!"
Yllidan looked about and saw he was surrounded by figures. He gingerly touched his shoulder and winced.
"I can help with that." said one of the men, a cleric, it seemed.
He laid his hands upon Yllidan's shoulder and his mouthed moved softly.
"Better?"
Yllidan nodded.
"Thanks." he added.
His attention turned to the wizard, bound and gagged, on a chair.
"We thank God, the all powerful and all forgiving, for putting death at the end of life and not in the beginning..."
“I am Ambron, and I’m willing to let you interrogate this guy. But don’t go too far.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” Gilthanas stated coldly without a sideways glance. He stared steadily at the bound wizard in front of him, his eyes hard, unyielding. He held his blade naked at his side; should the man prove uncooperative, he knew what was coming. “I’ll ask one more time,” he said, the threat clear in his voice. “Who is Reglan? Why does he want my katana?”
“I-I don’t know!” the wizard stammered, flinching. “Erik was the one he dealt with. He just told us the jobs, and we did them. I swear!” The man eyed the blade the half-elf was holding, trembling, his eyes wide with terror, like a cornered rabbit with nowhere left to run.
Gilthanas eyed the man for a long moment. “Hmph. You’re useless,” he decided contemptuously. He sheathed his katana and picked up the short bow. “I see you again, and you’re dead.” He turned and walked out the door, ignoring the protests behind him.
As they watched the stranger leave, the others suddenly had the sinking feeling that they had beheld, no, helped thwart, something more than just a simple mugging. And, like it not, they were now witnesses…
* * * * *
“A quiver and a full load of arrows,” Gilthanas muttered. “And a backstrap,” he added.
“Very good.” The clerk went to the backroom and fetched the goods. Gilthanas took them and laid the money on the counter. Leaving the store, he spotted a large crow on a nearby tree. He drew his new short bow and fired. The bird let out a startled squawk and flew away, the arrow embedding itself in the tree a few inches away. Gilthanas stood there for a moment, something vaguely stirring in a darkened corner of his mind. As he went to grasp it, the spark sputtered and died, and he was cast into darkness once again.
“This doesn’t concern you,” Gilthanas stated coldly without a sideways glance. He stared steadily at the bound wizard in front of him, his eyes hard, unyielding. He held his blade naked at his side; should the man prove uncooperative, he knew what was coming. “I’ll ask one more time,” he said, the threat clear in his voice. “Who is Reglan? Why does he want my katana?”
“I-I don’t know!” the wizard stammered, flinching. “Erik was the one he dealt with. He just told us the jobs, and we did them. I swear!” The man eyed the blade the half-elf was holding, trembling, his eyes wide with terror, like a cornered rabbit with nowhere left to run.
Gilthanas eyed the man for a long moment. “Hmph. You’re useless,” he decided contemptuously. He sheathed his katana and picked up the short bow. “I see you again, and you’re dead.” He turned and walked out the door, ignoring the protests behind him.
As they watched the stranger leave, the others suddenly had the sinking feeling that they had beheld, no, helped thwart, something more than just a simple mugging. And, like it not, they were now witnesses…
* * * * *
“A quiver and a full load of arrows,” Gilthanas muttered. “And a backstrap,” he added.
“Very good.” The clerk went to the backroom and fetched the goods. Gilthanas took them and laid the money on the counter. Leaving the store, he spotted a large crow on a nearby tree. He drew his new short bow and fired. The bird let out a startled squawk and flew away, the arrow embedding itself in the tree a few inches away. Gilthanas stood there for a moment, something vaguely stirring in a darkened corner of his mind. As he went to grasp it, the spark sputtered and died, and he was cast into darkness once again.
Lost Souls: A bereft lover. A masterless familiar. Friends gone their separate ways. Time marches on, and destiny heralds the meeting of comrades old and new. Can they find what they're seeking? Or will the search bring them only more pain?
Heresh leaned heavily against the side of the building breathing heavily, with his cheeks puffed out, and lips purkered into an oval shape. He really had run quite fast, though, since coming to this plane, he learned how to do so. He rocked his head back, and placed it against the rough wooden wall of the store he had decided to against, occasionally rubbing his chin from where it had been bruised shortly ago. He let out a pleased sigh, seeing as he was allowing himself time to rest, but it was quickly interupted by the loud squawking of a nearby crow. He sighed again at the interuption, then pushing his head forward, he glanced around the edge of the building. He saw the Half-elf from the tavern, and he seemed to be spooking the wild life. He gently pushed his shades back up a notch, them having slid slightly when he moved his head, with his middle finger. He watched as the half-elf make some weird facial expression, almost like that a sheep makes mid-quarters, then stop for a moment.
"Hmph..." grunted Heresh to himself, and pushing himself to his feet. "First he doesn't want to talk, and now he's shooting at crows... Not a pleasant fellow." Once on his feet, Heresh dusted his coat trails off, and straightend it. He then ran one hand through hair, making sure the blonde strainds were sufficiently spiky. He then grunted again, stiffened his arms and legs, and marched over to the distant Half-elf, his march resembling that of a tiny tin soldier, that was poorly oiled, and not capable of much more than comically walking. To people around, he must've appeared quite a sight, but it did little to deter Heresh and his new "mission." "Hey! You there!" He called over the the Half-elf, raising his hand, and pointing directly at him. The half breed seemed not to notice. "Hey!" he called again, still no response. Heresh continued to march forward, kicking up small clouds of dust in the process.
Just before Heresh came within an arm's length of the half-elf, the distinct sound of metal sliding against metal as heard, the flash of light gave away the fact a blade had been drawn. Just as fast as the half-elf drew his blade, though, Heresh had his own weapon drawn. It was a pecular device, to say the least. It was as if it had once been a cross bow, but the sturdy trunk of the weapon had been replaced with a hollow metal tube, and a chamber of some sort, with six indents in it. It still had the trigger, but was compact enough to be held with one hand. In his hast, though, Heresh seemed to have forgot which way the weapon was held, and he was firmly holding the weapon, barreling in hand, hilt towards the half-elf, as if handing it to him. Almost as fast as his weapon was drawn, Heresh realized his mistake, and let out a panicked yell, tossing the weapon slightly into the air, and juggling with it momentarly from hand to hand before getting it right, and grabbing it firmly by the handle. He gave out a relieved sigh, and wiped his forehead with his free hand, slouching somewhat in the process.
The half-elf's face seemed to darken with the display in front of him, and his weapon lowered slightly. "Be off, drunkard..." he stated coldly, sheathing his weapon completly, and turning his body away. "I have no wish to gut a careless fool." His head snapped towards Heresh, his long hair catching in the wind, creating an almost dramtic effect. "Especially one such as yourself... It would be a waste of time..." the half-elf then turned, retrieved his arrow, and walked off to be with his thoughts.
Heresh blinked through his jade green shades, watching the half-elf walk off, and lowered his own foreign weapon, wondering what just happened.
"Hey! There he is!"
Heresh snapped back into reality, and turned to the side. The four men from earlier had apparently dusted themselves off, and begun to look for him again.
"Get him!" shouted the lead man, pointing towards Heresh, and the other three charging past.
Heresh let out one of his ungodly yelps, his face contorting into the weirdest of appearances, then, without a moments pause, he turned around, and darted off, down the road, his arms and legs pumping profusely, and his head tilted back, leaving a trailing wail as he ran...
"Hmph..." grunted Heresh to himself, and pushing himself to his feet. "First he doesn't want to talk, and now he's shooting at crows... Not a pleasant fellow." Once on his feet, Heresh dusted his coat trails off, and straightend it. He then ran one hand through hair, making sure the blonde strainds were sufficiently spiky. He then grunted again, stiffened his arms and legs, and marched over to the distant Half-elf, his march resembling that of a tiny tin soldier, that was poorly oiled, and not capable of much more than comically walking. To people around, he must've appeared quite a sight, but it did little to deter Heresh and his new "mission." "Hey! You there!" He called over the the Half-elf, raising his hand, and pointing directly at him. The half breed seemed not to notice. "Hey!" he called again, still no response. Heresh continued to march forward, kicking up small clouds of dust in the process.
Just before Heresh came within an arm's length of the half-elf, the distinct sound of metal sliding against metal as heard, the flash of light gave away the fact a blade had been drawn. Just as fast as the half-elf drew his blade, though, Heresh had his own weapon drawn. It was a pecular device, to say the least. It was as if it had once been a cross bow, but the sturdy trunk of the weapon had been replaced with a hollow metal tube, and a chamber of some sort, with six indents in it. It still had the trigger, but was compact enough to be held with one hand. In his hast, though, Heresh seemed to have forgot which way the weapon was held, and he was firmly holding the weapon, barreling in hand, hilt towards the half-elf, as if handing it to him. Almost as fast as his weapon was drawn, Heresh realized his mistake, and let out a panicked yell, tossing the weapon slightly into the air, and juggling with it momentarly from hand to hand before getting it right, and grabbing it firmly by the handle. He gave out a relieved sigh, and wiped his forehead with his free hand, slouching somewhat in the process.
The half-elf's face seemed to darken with the display in front of him, and his weapon lowered slightly. "Be off, drunkard..." he stated coldly, sheathing his weapon completly, and turning his body away. "I have no wish to gut a careless fool." His head snapped towards Heresh, his long hair catching in the wind, creating an almost dramtic effect. "Especially one such as yourself... It would be a waste of time..." the half-elf then turned, retrieved his arrow, and walked off to be with his thoughts.
Heresh blinked through his jade green shades, watching the half-elf walk off, and lowered his own foreign weapon, wondering what just happened.
"Hey! There he is!"
Heresh snapped back into reality, and turned to the side. The four men from earlier had apparently dusted themselves off, and begun to look for him again.
"Get him!" shouted the lead man, pointing towards Heresh, and the other three charging past.
Heresh let out one of his ungodly yelps, his face contorting into the weirdest of appearances, then, without a moments pause, he turned around, and darted off, down the road, his arms and legs pumping profusely, and his head tilted back, leaving a trailing wail as he ran...
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
"He just left... damn him!”
In the room hung an aura of total silence. Frustrated, Ambron balled his fists and yelled. “How could all of this just happen?”
“Damn…”
The inn was totally wrecked, chairs and tables damaged beyond repair and there was blood everywhere. A feeling of defeat came over Ambron and he felt old and useless.
Slowly he walked around towards the bar. As he walked, he picked up cubs and put tables back on their feet while passing them by.
Leaning on the bar, Ambron suddenly felt very angry.
Without any warning or reason, he gave out a yell and slammed on the bar as hard as he could. He felt better after this.
After he had calmed down a bit, he walked over to the wizard.
“Well well, what should we do with you?” Best leave you to the proper authorities…”
With the words still hanging in the air, Luskan guards walked in through the door.
“Talk about the devil!” Laughed Ambron.
“Hello Ambron, what happened this time old man?”
Old man…
After Ambron explained what had happened, all he wanted was to get out of there as fast as he could.
“You’ll take care of this scumbag?” The guards confirmed by nodding.
With his mind somewhat at ease, Ambron picked up his staff and walked towards the front door.
In the room hung an aura of total silence. Frustrated, Ambron balled his fists and yelled. “How could all of this just happen?”
“Damn…”
The inn was totally wrecked, chairs and tables damaged beyond repair and there was blood everywhere. A feeling of defeat came over Ambron and he felt old and useless.
Slowly he walked around towards the bar. As he walked, he picked up cubs and put tables back on their feet while passing them by.
Leaning on the bar, Ambron suddenly felt very angry.
Without any warning or reason, he gave out a yell and slammed on the bar as hard as he could. He felt better after this.
After he had calmed down a bit, he walked over to the wizard.
“Well well, what should we do with you?” Best leave you to the proper authorities…”
With the words still hanging in the air, Luskan guards walked in through the door.
“Talk about the devil!” Laughed Ambron.
“Hello Ambron, what happened this time old man?”
Old man…
After Ambron explained what had happened, all he wanted was to get out of there as fast as he could.
“You’ll take care of this scumbag?” The guards confirmed by nodding.
With his mind somewhat at ease, Ambron picked up his staff and walked towards the front door.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
Without a goal, Ambron wondered around the area.
He stopped to light his pipe and looked up to the sky, he felt small and old. His mind told him he still had the skills but at this moment his emotions had the overhand.
After a while he resumed his way and strolled onwards.
He stopped to light his pipe and looked up to the sky, he felt small and old. His mind told him he still had the skills but at this moment his emotions had the overhand.
After a while he resumed his way and strolled onwards.
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.
As Ambron walked out of the inn, Yllidan stood and ran after him.
"Excuse me sir." Yllidan's voice disrupted Ambron's thoughts.
"Aye? How can I help ye?"Ambron turned and answered.
"Was it you who had healed my wounds?"
"Nae lad, I believe it was another man there," Ambron said.
"I was wondering sir, whether ye would need an extra arm in protecting and patrolling the area sir. An arm adept in some magic as well..."
Ambron looked the halfling up and down.
Yllidan waited for an answer.
"Excuse me sir." Yllidan's voice disrupted Ambron's thoughts.
"Aye? How can I help ye?"Ambron turned and answered.
"Was it you who had healed my wounds?"
"Nae lad, I believe it was another man there," Ambron said.
"I was wondering sir, whether ye would need an extra arm in protecting and patrolling the area sir. An arm adept in some magic as well..."
Ambron looked the halfling up and down.
Yllidan waited for an answer.
"We thank God, the all powerful and all forgiving, for putting death at the end of life and not in the beginning..."
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Rob-hin
- Posts: 4832
- Joined: Tue Aug 21, 2001 11:00 am
- Location: In the Batcave with catwoman. *prrrr*
- Contact:
"It is late..."
Ambron didn't expect such a question.
He had always lived alone, only having casual friends. Though he would like some compagnie at the moment; someone to talk with.
"Since yer not from around here, perhaps ya like to stay at my house... Hah, I don't think the Griffon will be open t'night!"
He turned and patted the halfling on the back.
"If yer still interested in tha mornin then we'll talk about it.
How does that sound to ya? I'm to tired to think about this now."
"What's yer name littl' one?"
Ambron didn't expect such a question.
He had always lived alone, only having casual friends. Though he would like some compagnie at the moment; someone to talk with.
"Since yer not from around here, perhaps ya like to stay at my house... Hah, I don't think the Griffon will be open t'night!"
He turned and patted the halfling on the back.
"If yer still interested in tha mornin then we'll talk about it.
How does that sound to ya? I'm to tired to think about this now."
"What's yer name littl' one?"
Guinness is good for you.
Gives you strength.
Gives you strength.